twentyforeplay

Yesterday was mah birthday (24 -- anyone reading this knows that, but having run out of fingers and toes on my last big day, I'm marking the occasion) and it was a ruse that became a funfest. Expecting naught, I got much, and all in the vein of the Disney:

If you have the means, I highly recommend partaking in Disney-themed jubilees in February and on a Wednesday, esp. if this lovely Wednesday happens to be the day before they unveil a new colossal new pastelly theme area called Californium or Californication or something. There were 8 people in the park (Hi, Heeble-Hogan family from Little Panoche!) and 566 employees. I saw the Mad Hatter chase kids just to have someone to talk to. I also saw...

-a mom frenching her baby. Really. Tongue flicking was raging, and she wasn't just cleaning his forelock or licking off the remains of a Pizzanaut Surprise Futureland Lunch Pack...totally hot.

-tons of crocodiles. They are the most-featured animal in the parkland rides, I think. Thought they were alligators at first, but hands-on investigation of their snout shape and felty jaw-hinge apparatuses (nod to Crocodile Hunter) revealed the truth, and also allowed me to see the new Disney "Adventuresome" Guest Holding Area and Police Inspection Ward. Ow.

-rampant child anxiety...you think Disneyland is stressy for neon-visored heffy-huffy parents with 8 spawn? It is. But I've noticed this terrific glee-stress that kids place on themselves...they know they're absolutely indebted to having a good time, a $50 good time maybe. Lots of breathless, pointless screaming and flailing angular limbs and impromptu kid-dances (shimmy in the bathroom line! poke your brother in the head on Star Tours!) and gay superlatives to describe everything everywhere. Words that guarantee playground maiming / are featured heavily in '50s educational film strips: "Yipee!", "Zapoo!", "Cornrageous!", etc.

I rode Pirates three times babies, and the Haunted Mansion twice (do you ride that?) and everything else felt the steely grip of my butt cheeks on a plastic bench-seat many times over. I ate well, and I froze, and I had my birthday.

But I give as good as I get! See, I also made up the Best Disneyland Joke Ever yesterday, and I am going to share it with you now. Ready? "Why is it called the Matterhorn?" (I guess I don't need quotes, but oh well) Give up? Because it's made of grey matter! (Helpful Joke-Getting Factoid: more people die tourist death on that ride than any other, and oft by head-removed-from-body boo-boos). I'm having this joke embossed on Disney-sanctioned index cards, and I'll be selling them from the back of my van in Roger Rabbit Parking Structure H-9, quadrant 46, sub-level Q-44.01. Do stop by.

fell on 2001-02-08 at 12:34:01

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